


our eyes light up, we have no shame at all

by uneventfulhouses



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), S.W.A.T. (TV 2017), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uneventfulhouses/pseuds/uneventfulhouses
Summary: “Hey, I want to show you something,” Ira says, and Eric turns into him, his hand settling on Ira’s cheek. Eric kisses him and Ira can’t help but laugh.“What?” Eric mutters.“I have something to actually show you.”“I thought that was code for sex, but okay,” Eric says, smiling a little. There’s a soft, tired look at the edges of his eyes.
Relationships: Eric/Ira, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73
Collections: The Ghosts Are Watching





	our eyes light up, we have no shame at all

**Author's Note:**

> title from "lampshades on fire" by modest mouse. 
> 
> thanks to spence for the playlist. thanks to jess for the beta ily
> 
> this is absolutely shane/ryan fic by extension lmao have fun kids
> 
> [shane voice] don't do drugs

Staring at the ceiling becomes something of a pastime for Ira when he’s stoned; he lays on the too small twin-sized bed of his dormitory, soft-bodied and boneless, his eyes dragging over the warped art that he’s pinned to the ceiling. The music that plays is something chill, alternative, with guitars and drums; the kind shit he likes to see live, wedged between the bodies of concert-goers, drunk and feeling good. 

There’s a soft knock at his door. It opens before Ira can answer, so he knows it’s Eric. Sure enough, Eric waltzes in, throwing his bag to the floor and stripping out of his collegiate hoodie. Ira leans up on his elbows, watching with lazy attention as Eric closes the door behind him. He’s shirtless now, wearing expensive jeans, the waistband of his underwear peeking out, settled tight over the sharp cut of his hips. Eric looks at him, smiles, and crosses the room towards him, turning the music up on his way. 

Without words or a _hi_ or anything, he climbs into bed, squishing himself into the little bit of space that’s left, even when Ira makes the space for him to join. Eric curls into him, a leg up over Ira’s thigh, one hand wiggling underneath Ira’s soft, worn t-shirt to settle warm against his waist. 

Sometimes, when he’s baked, Ira thinks there’s something missing. A crack in reality that makes everything feel like so much less. Then Eric comes in, like gold, and fills in the cracks, mends the fabric of Ira’s mind, and makes everything so much better, so much more. 

“Hey, I want to show you something,” Ira says, and Eric turns into him, his hand settling on Ira’s cheek. Eric kisses him and Ira can’t help but laugh. 

“What?” Eric mutters. 

“I have something to actually show you.”

“I thought that was code for sex, but okay,” Eric says, smiling a little. There’s a soft, tired look at the edges of his eyes. Ira sits up, pulling his laptop from his discarded messenger bag at the end of the bed. 

“I was fuckin’ around last night and—so the effects are—” Ira pulls up the rough cut of the video he made, hitting play, and Eric sits up to watch, leaning in towards the screen. Ira splits his attention between the screen of his computer and the expressions on Eric’s face, so deeply engrossed, smiling in parts, frowning in others, gasping when it all explodes and collides and ends. 

“You must’a been trippin’ real hard, babe,” Eric says, looking up at Ira, a little like he’s got the whole world in his eyes, like he’s got the glimmer of sunlight tucked somewhere in them. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Ira says with a laugh, leaning down to smear a kiss over Eric’s shoulder. “Thought you’d like it, though. Did you?” 

“Of course I did. I never understand any of it, but, like, I do at the same time? It’s like a feeling,” Eric explains, falling back against the mattress. 

“A feeling?” Ira asks. 

“I can hear the colors, you know.” Eric hums, letting his eyes fall closed. “Feels like I get to see into your mind.”

Quirking a smile, Ira shuts the lid of his computer and reaches over Eric’s body to leave it on the ground, lying back down and closing his eyes; maybe he can see what Eric sees. 

“I’m done with class today,” Eric says into his shoulder when he turns into Ira, spreading his hand over Ira’s collarbones, pressing over his chest. He drags his touch down Ira’s waist, making him shiver when Eric shoves his hand back up Ira’s t-shirt, settling hot against the flesh of his waist. 

“Yeah?” Ira says, knowing exactly what Eric wants, what he’s asking for. Ira opens his eyes and reaches over Eric’s body, this time for the drugs he keeps in his top drawer. 

The book of stamps he pulls out is colorful; a series of neatly drawn cartoon happy faces. Ira peels off a stamp, presses it against Eric’s tongue with his thumb. Eric’s lips close around him, the hot pressure of his tongue slowly dragging against the pad of Ira’s thumb as his teeth drag over Ira’s nail. Eric’s eyes are bright, suggestive, and Ira takes his own stamp quickly, laying back down next to Eric, entertaining him when Eric shifts onto his side, fingers soft against Ira’s cheek when he coaxes him for a kiss. 

The effects of the drugs aren’t immediate, but he falls into Eric’s kiss like they are, like he can already feel the colors melting underneath his skin, bright like neon lights behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes. Eric tastes like gatorade, and a little like desperation as they kiss, dirty and sloppy. Eric moans underneath him, his hand travelling higher underneath Ira’s shirt to press against his chest, rounding the cage of his ribs to press hot against his shoulder blade. 

Then it begins, trickling like the morning wash of orange sunlight, bursting like a popped balloon, settling inside him like the slow drip of paint splattered across the wall. He opens up to it, lets it bleed across his mind, bright and coaxing, warm warm warm. 

Eric’s hand is strong against Ira’s chest when Eric pushes him down against the bed, climbing on top of him. 

“I want to fuck you now,” Eric says, dragging his ass over Ira’s half chub, and Ira shivers, even though the room is warm, even though Eric sits like a man made of fire astride his thighs. Eric looks down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, biting down on his lip. 

“You know where everything is.” Ira doesn’t make a habit of denying Eric anything, and this time isn’t any different. “Kiss me first,” Ira says, and Eric leans down to drop a quick kiss to Ira’s mouth which is a lot less than Ira had wanted. 

It doesn’t matter much, because Eric diverts his attention instead, nipping along the scruff of Ira’s jaw, licking wet over his pulse. Ira keens when he feels Eric’s hand slither underneath the waistband of his joggers, hot fingers grasping around the length of his cock. He doesn’t move, just squeezes and Ira pants into the open air of the room as Eric busies his mouth, teeth scraping at the curve of his neck. Ira’s hands spread wide over the expanse of Eric’s back, lifting his hips so he’ll feel something more than the god awful tease of Eric’s palm. 

“God, you’re already so hard. You want it don’t you?” Eric breathes against his skin. When Eric pulls back, his lips are wet and shiny, and his eyes are dark; Ira doesn’t know how to answer him. He’s noisy though, grunting when Eric twists his fist at the head of his cock. 

Ira sucks in a sharp breath, letting his hands slide down Eric’s back to pressing his palms against Eric’s ass, encouraging him. 

“Please,” Ira breathes, and Eric grins, wolfish, devilish. Ira’s heart thrums something complicated against his sternum when Eric’s halo flickers and Ira feels a thrill, adrenaline rushing through him. 

“Come on,” Eric breathes, pressing his mouth hot against Ira’s sternum. “Get your clothes off for me.” 

Eric moves away, too far for his mind to comprehend, so Ira reaches out for him, but it’s like clawing through water and he comes back empty handed. Eric stands up, wiggling out of his jeans, out of his underwear, and then he’s naked. Ira knows he should move, get out of his own clothes, but looking at Eric is much more fascinating; the length of his body, the flex of his muscles, the way he reaches to close a hand around himself and stroke as he leans over the open drawer over the nightstand for the lube, for condoms. 

When he’s got both, he comes back to bed, and helps Ira with his clothes, huffing in exasperated laughter. Ira sits up, leans in for a kiss, but Eric’s hands over his stomach are slow, dragging hot palms up and up, until Ira’s got his arms up over his head, and Eric pulls off the soft cotton of his tee, tossing it to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. Ira blinks, until his vision sharpens and there’s just one hyper-focused Eric sitting in front of him, gorgeous with his dark eyelashes and kaleidoscope eyes, like he owns every color Ira can name, and all the ones he can’t. 

“Lay down, babe,” Eric murmurs, and Ira goes, settling back against the pillows, pliant, moving only when needed. Eric’s fingers are heavy now, like his touch is melting into Ira’s skin, like he’s sticking to Ira. Ira likes the feeling across his hips when Eric teases, fingertips skating across his flesh, dragging his joggers down along with his underwear, leaving him naked, sinking into the ocean of his bedsheets, floating at the surface. 

Ira’s skin is so hot, he can feel the sweat pooling at the backs of his knees, in the dips of his elbows.

“Look at me,” Eric says to him, barely louder than the music, but Ira hears the raw, low pitch of his voice, so he does what he’s told, looks down at Eric sitting so pretty between his legs, his hands on either one of Ira’s thighs. Ira watches as Eric folds himself in half, licking wetly over the long, hard line of his cock. Ira’s eyes flutter shut—he can’t help it—and his fingers find their way into Eric’s messy, curly hair as Eric sucks him down. 

There’s a concentrated burst of pleasure deep in his belly that drips into his limbs, makes his toes curl and his fingers tighten in Eric’s hair, Ira’s careful not to shift his hips too much as Eric takes him deeper. 

“Eric, Eric, _baby_ ,” he sighs, when he feels Eric’s wet fingers slip inside of him. Ira falls victim to the feeling of it, the shock that seizes his body when Eric curls his fingers just so, when Eric’s lips suckle around the head of his dick. Opening his eyes to look makes him feel like he’s sinking, lower and lower and lower among the heat of the coals that keep the fire going. Eric’s lips are shiny with spit, with his precome and Ira didn’t realize he was breathing so hard until Eric gives him a third finger and it feels just right. Ira arches his back, and he can hear Eric murmuring as he kisses over the front of his hips, over the marks he’d left the last time he’d blown him. 

“Please,” Ira croaks, and Eric’s eyes snap up to meet his, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets, before he climbs up the expanse of Ira’s body, bracketing him with his forearms. Ira reaches his hands to settle against Eric’s waist as their bodies press together and Eric kisses him, licking slowly into his mouth, humming, vibrating, shaking. Ira hooks a leg around Eric’s hips, keeps him close as they rut against each other. 

“I have this feeling,” Ira whispers into Eric’s mouth, and Eric kisses down Ira’s jaw, sucking at his pulse, his tongue like electricity. 

“What feeling?” Eric asks, barely audible, gasping when Ira reaches between them and closes his hand around Eric’s cock, wet but bare. He strokes slowly, pressing his thumb right under the head just to hear Eric beg. 

“Feeling like I wanna feel you, like, just you and me,” Ira says, his eyes looking up at the ceiling, and then Eric’s face, when Eric obstructs his vision, his face smiling, eyes stupidly bright, shining like a whole goddamn night sky on the Fourth of July. 

“We can do that,” Eric says. “You fuckin’ sap.” 

Ira smiles slowly, like he’s a flower blooming and Eric’s the sun. 

Eric leans down to kiss him, soft, like the touch of snow in the winter, and between their bodies, between Ira’s legs, Eric teases, the tip of his bare cock catching against his rim. There’s the delicate fan of eyelashes casting shadows over Eric’s scruffy cheeks and Ira reaches out to tug at Eric’s waist, curving his hand to press against the bottom of his spine, trying to move it along. Eric seems to take pity on him, sinking in quickly so the burn of it makes Ira groan much too loud for the thin walls of his dormitory. 

“Hey, hey,” Eric says, kissing over Ira’s cheeks, his chin. “Gotta be quiet for me, baby.” 

“I can’t,” Ira replies, and he finds Eric’s hand with his own, kissing his palm. Eric keeps his hands there, over Ira’s mouth to keep him quiet as he pulls his hips back and thrusts in. Ira’s breath sticks in his throat as Eric fucks him, just this side of too hard, finding a quick unrelenting rhythm. The wet sound of their skin coming together resonates in the room and each time Eric fucks in, Ira grunts, muffled against the palm of Eric’s hand. 

Eric bows his head and closes his eyes, and Ira watches, lets himself fall into the feeling of it all. Eric’s hips fall heavy against his, and Ira hooks his feet against the insides of Eric’s knees, meeting him somewhere in the middle. 

Eric looks down at him, his lips parted, panting, muscles flexing as he holds up his own weight. Ira wants to taste Eric’s name in his mouth, listen to the ragged, ruined way he says it, the way Eric shivers when he does, but he can only moan, keep his eyes on Eric’s all the while, hands grasping at Eric’s ass to keep him close.

When Eric’s hand falls away, it’s only because Eric wants to kiss him, but Ira’s no good for it. He’s too lost in the feeling of Eric’s body, of his thick cock, fucking him so deep, like Eric’s gone and shoved his hands into the open cavity of Ira’s chest, has curled his hands around Ira’s heart. 

“You feel so fuckin' good,” Eric groans, hiding his face into the curve of Ira’s shoulder, and Ira closes his eyes, lets Eric ruin him. He lets Eric just take and take and take, until all Ira can do is pant, whisper Eric’s name between synth and bass and silky words sung by men who understand the feeling he’s feeling; like he’s flying a little too close to the sun, in love with the one person in the world with hands so capable it could destroy him. 

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” Ira hisses, and Eric gives him a hickey, a bite, a bruise, gives him more of that heat that sits so insistent in the lowest part of his belly, tight in his balls. 

Eric pulls out and gives Ira’s thigh a healthy smack. Ira turns over, like he knows Eric wants him to. When Ira’s settled on his stomach, Eric’s hands map constellations onto his back, draw galaxies into his flesh. Ira floats in the void of space momentarily, until Eric hauls him up by the hips and Ira pants into the crook of his elbow, feeling the slow, delicious slide of Eric’s cock filling him up again. 

“Keep quiet, okay?” Eric says, his voice shaky, and Ira keeps as quiet as he can, skulking at a level that’s just underneath the slinking beat of the music. His eyes shut tight as Eric presses his hand heavy between Ira’s shoulder blades, keeping him against the mattress as his other hand grips ruthlessly at his hip. 

“Ira,” Eric sighs. “Such a good boy for me, hmm?” 

Ira lifts his head then, just to give himself the space to breathe out. “ _Yes_.” 

Eric fucks him slow, draping himself along Ira’s spine, pressing his mouth hot against Ira’s back. Eric’s hand finds Ira’s hand, his fingers, tightening his hold around them. Ira breathes out hard, whispers Eric’s name into the room. 

“Right there. God, don’t stop. Eric, _Eric_ ,” Ira says, biting into the meat of his forearm when Eric fucks in just right, when Eric makes the sky open and Ira only sees blinding light, holiness, divinity. It’s too much for him to handle, balancing on this precarious edge of overabundant and not enough. 

“Are you close?” Eric whispers, and Ira nods, reaches his arm underneath himself to close his hand around his cock, and Eric’s hand comes around his, and like some Harlequin paper romance smut novel, they stroke in tandem, until Ira is fucking back against Eric’s hips, whining into his pillows, the taste of Eric’s name sweet and salty, intoxicating like alcohol on his tongue. 

Ira shoots off onto the bed, and a half moment later, Eric’s grinding against his ass, his breath hot against Ira’s shoulder as his teeth scrape against his flesh. Everything feels too hot, too wet, and Ira’s thighs shake too much for him to hold himself up, so he doesn’t anymore, just lets his knees slip over the bedsheets, falling into his own mess with his eyes closed. 

Eric falls next to him, squished between him and the wall, always so affectionate when they fuck and take these trips together. He burrows into Ira, searching for him, slipping his body underneath the hold of Ira’s arm, kissing over his cheek, his chin, his shoulder, his arm, all the way to his elbow where Ira watches as Eric presses his tongue over the sensitive skin there and licks. 

“You taste like daytime,” Eric says nonsensically, and Ira smiles, tugging Eric close so they can glue themselves together, sticky and sweaty, kissing, until they dissolve into tired breaths. Eric presses his hand against Ira’s cheek, and Ira closes his eyes, lets himself feel the delicate thrum of Eric’s heartbeat against his chest, and lay there for a moment, two moments, an eternity, until Eric’s fingers tickle down his spine. 

“Was it good for you?” Eric whispers. 

“Quit fishing for compliments,” Ira mutters, and Eric’s laugh is like honey, dripping, sticking to Ira’s skin, sweet and golden. 

“I’m not, I’m just making sure.” Eric’s eyes are shiny, a little hazy when Ira looks at them.

“‘S always good with you, babe.” Ira noses along the line of Eric’s collarbone, pressing a kiss to his sweaty flesh, reveling in the way Eric threads his fingers into his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i'm [here](https://uneventfulhouses.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
